Recovering Honor
by homicidalmommy
Summary: Aurelia has lost her husband but not her resolve. She will do whatever is necessary to complete the task her Varro left unfinished.   Just a quick, two chapter prelude to my next fic, surrounding episode 13.    R&R, s'il vous plait!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

She could still feel the heat radiating from what was left of the funeral pyre when Alarbus commented on the anomalous chill. She watched from the corner of her eye as her brother lovingly draped a woolen cloth over Janus' tiny body. The boy stood silent beside his uncle; he had not spoken since late morning, when she collected the body of a father he barely knew from the House of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus.

"I said there is a _chill_, Aurelia. Come, retire to the tent. A long journey awaits us on the road to Sicilia." He paused, waiting for her response. "Aurelia."

Marina approached the girl with caution, shooting a reprimanding glance at her husband. As with most kind, stoic men, he was blessed with a soft heart and a harsh tongue. Alarbus nodded at his wife, acquiescing to her wisdom, and led the boy into the tent so he may find diversion with his cousins.

"Aurelia?" Marina placed her hand upon her shoulder, taken aback by how warm the skin was. "You must rest. Trials of a difficult day weaken and you require strength to travel."

Aurelia turned to her sister in law; the lifeless look in her eyes was terrifying. Short of a few renegade tears escaping her eyes, Aurelia had yet to weep for her Varro. Marina feared the loss of her husband had broken the once cheerful girl's mind.

"I cannot depart from Capua laden with Varro's many debts. I cannot bear such a burden outside these city walls." She spoke with inhuman steadiness.

Marina stroked her dry cheeks with love. "No one will pursue you to Sicilia to claim repayment, Aurelia. Fear nothing. Wipe the debts from your conscience and leave this damned place."

Aurelia tried to express anger but her grief strangled the emotion. "Varro died for those debts. He placed himself in servitude to release himself from those bonds. I must remain here. I must!"

Marina pressed on; raising four children prepared her for fevered negotiation. "And what will you do? What possible purpose can you serve in Capua? Varro was a rising gladiator in the most exalted ludus in Capua and he was yet unable to clear away his debts."

Aurelia, still steady in her purpose, replied in a measured tone. She knew Marina cared for her and would eventually understand her insistence. "I will seek employment."

Marina looked toward the tent and heard sounds of laughter and play. She could easily distinguish Janus' laugh from the others; he sounded like his father. The boy's impish smile would haunt his mother, reminding her of happier times with Varro. "And what of the boy? And the child resting in your womb? Would you deprive Janus of the company of his cousins? And what of Titus? Have you received confirmation that the cut had lethal consequence? Aurelia." Marina turned the girl with a firm hand, hoping to shake her back to her senses. "What if he lives?"

"No punishment inflicted upon me will match..." Aurelia's eyes welled up once more, but her body would betray no other reaction. "I would have Janus taken away from this place, in your care and in comfort of cousins' love. I can attempt to outrun my past, Marina. Or I can end this."

Marina instinctively wrapped her arms around Aurelia. "Why the fuck are you so courageous?" She felt Aurelia's hands touching her elbows and her heart broke for her friend. "I will speak to your brother. He will see the logic in your words. However painful they may be."

"Gratitude." Aurelia pulled Marina from her and looked into her eyes with purpose. The stare sent a chill down Marina's back and she feared Aurelia's next words. "Before you depart for Sicilia, I would ask one last favor of you."

The passing hours brought painful dreams and more chills. The pyre's embers were finally extinguished and only cold ash remained. Aurelia feared she would never sleep soundly nor feel warm again. She imagined the heat of the pyre was the last warmth her husband would give her. His skin was as alabaster upon his death. If she had known their embrace upon reunion would be their last… she would never have released him. She wrapped her blanket around her, as she had for the past year and a half, pretending it was Varro's strong arms enveloping her. The trick was ineffective, and she could not shut her eyes.

Early the next morning, Aurelia walked through the streets of Capua as a stranger to the city. Since Varro's death, everything seemed foreign. Even her son, who bore such remarkable resemblance to her husband, was unrecognizable. She covered part of her face with her veil to avoid detection; her first task was dangerous.

"Oranges! Grapes! Sugar beets! Olives! Take your pick! Oranges-" The man stood stunned when Aurelia revealed her face for a moment. Felix gestured to her and quickly began to close the wooden panels around his stand.

"Oy! I wanted some fucking beets!" Marcellus cried out, rubbing his hand where the panel struck.

Felix sneered as Aurelia hid behind him. "Marcellus, you shit fucking pimp! I am closed until midday meal; return then." He closed the final panel and drew Aurelia behind the crates of produce. "You live! My cheeks are still wet with news of Varro's death."

Aurelia's throat seized at the mention of her husband's name. She knew she could trust Felix; he was the only man outside her family to whom she revealed her crime. "I require information. Regarding the merchant Titus. Felix… where is the villain?"

He looked at her with concern. "You do not know? He breathes no more. His shriveled old cunt of a widow scours the city for his murderer. She will not admit it but I know she has knowledge of the offense he committed." Felix simmered with anger. He could do little to defend his friend; he was a poor cripple with a tiny fruit stand. "She searches for _you_, Aurelia."

"Oh, fuck. The Gods themselves cannot save me." She tore at her hair in frustration. "I seek employment in Capua to absolve myself of Varro's debts, yet I cannot step foot in the streets for fear of capture."

"There is one path not yet explored." Felix whispered, taking her wrist with his lame hand; her sympathy always calmed her. "You may seek assistance from Batiatus."

Aurelia raised an eyebrow. "Batiatus? How will-"

"Batiatus' ludus is far removed from the center of the city and well-protected. No wife of a lowly merchant would dare approach the most lauded lanista in Capua." He tilted her head toward him to focus her attention; in her current state, she seemed bewildered and composed at the same time. "You could enter his employ, thereby working toward payments to Varro's debt and rescuing yourself from the wretched widow of Titus."

Aurelia kissed her friend's hand. Felix found solution to every tormenting problem that darkened her mind. "You have a mind sharper than Mars' sword. I must go and beg a word with the man. Although…"

He read her expression, anger under grief and desperation. "You think of Spartacus? And the dilemma of living in such close quarters with the man who slew your husband. A gladiator's hand is no longer his own, once brand seers skin. You cannot place blame in Spartacus. Go, now. If anyone in the market learns of your return-"

"Much gratitude, old friend." She embraced him and left the stall, walking through back alleys to the ludus on the hill.

Felix's words echoed in her ears. Could she ever forgive Spartacus, the man her husband called friend, brother, ally? Could she look into his face and see anything but a heartless killer, who wiped her Varro from the land of the living as carelessly as one swats a fly? A lamentable thought entered her mind: there is no other way.

_**Chapter two, coming soon!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"This will hurt, Aurelia. Grab hold of those branches and chew on this."

Aurelia placed the bitter root between her teeth and braced herself for the pain. She did not anticipate the crippling aches that emanated from her womb. She arched her back and fiercely clung to the tree until her knuckles were white as she suppressed her screams. Marina worked as quickly as she could; her knowledge as a midwife hastened the procedure. Finally, Aurelia's spent body slumped on the ground. Marina glanced at the tent; her children slept soundly within it.

Alarbus emerged from behind the tree; he approached only when Aurelia's whimpers ceased. "Allow me to carry you to the pallet." Aurelia began to protest, but saw the look in her brother's narrowed eyes. Alarbus carried her as a small child and she curled up against his chest. Still cold. He lay her down in the smaller tent and kissed her forehead, as he did when she was younger and unburdened by tragedy. "Sleep and dream of better times."

When he believed she was asleep, Alarbus sat beside his wife, who was still scrubbing the blood from her hands.

"Where is it?"

Marina motioned to a seemingly undisturbed patch of ground. "In there. I did not wish for Aurelia to know the location of its burial."

Alarbus seemed hypnotized by the few uprooted weeds littered across the grave and did not speak until Marina's hands were clean. "A boy? A girl?"

"I hardly glanced at… it. The less I knew of it, I-" Marina's voice broke and Alarbus gathered her in his arms as he to wept for Aurelia.

"The Gods have been cruel to my sister. Have they no mercy or fortune left to spare?" Marina did not respond. That night, Alarbus and his wife did not sleep and, unknown to them, neither did Aurelia.

The sun rose above the tips of the hills of Capua when Aurelia's family began to prepare for their journey to Sicilia.

"I still do not condone leaving you here with no protection, Aurelia. We have no pressing matters to attend. Why can we not leave upon your recovery?" Alarbus asked as the older children folded their tent.

Aurelia turned on the pallet; the aches were dull thuds in her stomach and she felt well enough to move. "Janus will see me now lying on a pallet, pale and ill. When I am recovered, he will not understand why his mother does not join him in Sicilia. I am well secluded in this place. A day or two of rest is all I require before beginning my duties in the House of Batiatus."

Alarbus pursed his lips and offered no argument. He simply set down a small knife and a large sack of food beside his sister and busied himself with the horse.

Janus returned from bathing with his cousins and, seeing Aurelia still in bed, approached his mother with caution. "Mama?" His voice was so small and the sound of his feet moving so slight, Aurelia's heart ached for her unfortunate son. His golden curls were still dripping with water.

Aurelia held her hand out to him and kissed his hands. "I am unwell, Janus. I cannot go with you today. I will follow when I have recovered."

Janus tilted his head, looking at his mother very closely. She smiled despite herself. Suspicious, like his mother. "Promise?"

She held him to her chest, as if she wanted to meld him to her as they once were and shield him from the world. "Only the Gods know. I will come to you as soon as I am able. You must pray, Janus." She kissed his forehead. "The Gods hear a good child's voice clearer than any other. So you must be very good." Janus nodded, agreeing with her.

"Janus. We must go now." Marina ducked into the tent. Janus kissed his mother and ran eagerly to his cousins. Marina bent to embrace the girl; the color seemed to return to Aurelia's cheeks. "I pray this separation is brief."

"Only by some miracle." Aurelia replied, sitting up on the pallet with more ease than Marina expected. "Varro's debts are substantial. But I will find a way; remove worry from mind." As a reluctant Marina left to join her family, Aurelia drifted to sleep.

Hours later, she awoke to her stomach grumbling with hunger. She ate the bread her brother left for her and pondered Batiatus' claim that Spartacus promised his winnings to her. How soon could she return home with aid from the purse of the Champion of Capua? A man who, if one believed storied glory, brought the rains to a parched city. She once sneered at Varro's mention of honorable ends. She would now restore honor to her husband's memory and work hard to absolve her family of debt.

Rustling outside the tent interrupted her thoughts and she gripped the hilt of her knife tightly. She heard the footfalls of the intruder: step, drag, step, drag.

"Felix?"

A familiar face appeared in the opening of the tent; the sunlight behind him had faded substantially. "I brought fruit, but I see your brother provides." Felix smiled his wide smile. "Good. I am starved."

Aurelia looked at his paunch with a raised eyebrow. "You look starved."

"Oh, this? Silvia claims it is a regal mark." He tossed her an orange. "She believes I am descended from royalty. You should be honored."

"What does _she_ say of your assistance?" Aurelia asked with some hesitation. Though Silvia proved to be a loyal wife, she burned with jealousy at Felix and Aurelia's friendship.

Felix swallowed nervously. "She does not know. She believes I leave for the country this night and that I am attending to pressing business before I depart. Which is not entirely untrue. When you are well, I will leave Capua seeking produce."

Felix's words brought back the nausea Aurelia felt when her son left. So many sacrifices. "Why did you lie?"

Felix looked at her knowingly. "Aurelia, you are aware of the distrust Silvia bears toward you. And she is hopelessly naïve. She would expose my role in our plot without any consideration and ruin us all." Felix unrolled a pallet and laid it outside the tent. "Free yourself from any anxiety. With my wife properly fooled, your caravan departed and Titus' widow scouring the wrong places for traces of her husband's killer, you and I are safe. Now, if you will excuse me, I am an old man and I require rest."

The dewy morning came and Felix did not stir as Aurelia cleared the tent. Her hands yet trembled and her stomach churned but she was able to walk. That was well enough. She would not put her childhood friend in harm's way or in the way of his wife's wrath, not after all the kindness he showed her. When Felix would awake, he would find only a sack of food in her place.

Weakened knees carried her to the precipice beside Batiatus' ludus. For a quick moment, she contemplated stepping forward into the abyss; thoughts of her Janus withdrew her foot. She tossed the bloodied rags over the cliff, erasing any evidence of her time in Capua. Alarbus took Varro's ashes with him, promising to bury them when she returned. Such pain, such sacrifice, such agony she and those she cared for bore in the wake of Varro's death. She felt a swell of anger as she walked to the ludus gates, the flame of it searing any other emotion from her heart. No self-pity, no pain, only hate. Hatred for the man who stole the light from her life, the man who slew Varro.

She spat the name. "Spartacus."


End file.
